Knowing this I have wanted to do a follow up post, but for a long time I didn’t have anything new or profound to say about it. Last week however I read this really interesting article in Christianity Today by Mark Regnerus (which was sort of a big deal because normally I find Christianity Today WAY too conservative for my tastes). His article was called A Case for Early Marriage, and you can read the full piece here.

Regnerus takes the whole conversation of single Christian sexuality and adds an interesting twist, refocusing the conversation into something different than mere sex.  He points out that as a Christian culture, we are highly focused (and maybe over focused) on physical conservatism before marriage, but we are missing the larger issue. Instead of being focused on how to be able to wait longer and longer to have appropriate sex within marriage, he argues that we need to see the value of, and support young Christians entering into marriage. He illuminates the shift in culture away from marriage and commitment, happening both inside and outside of the Church.Yet at the same time, we haven’t allowed for any shifts in our thoughts surrounding sexuality. We have been left with an entire generation of Christians who are trying all of the virginity commitment gimmicks they can muster, while needing trying to abstain for a continually elongating period before marriage. And in the midst we are wondering why the Church’s 80% sexuality rate isn’t that much behind the world’s 90% rate.

In a single statement, Regnerus says that we don’t need to learn how to be more pure, we need to learn how to get married.

To follow up this statement,  it should be explained that if marriage is God’s display to the world of how Christ loves the Church, then we should be focusing on how to create supported and strong marriages between young Christians…not how to keep your hands to yourself until you are nearly 30.

“I am suggesting that when people wait until mid to late 20s to marry, is IS unreasonable to expect them to refrain from sex. It battles our Creator’s reproductive design. The data don’t lie.”

Right here let me clarify that Regnerus does indicate that young marriagedoesn’t mean that we should be telling high schoolers to think about wedding rings. He is focusing on the 22-24 year old crowd. Which, yes does seem a bit young to us, but even 35 years ago, that was the average age to think about marriage.  Regnerus clarifies our struggles with sexuality and marriage with the following statement:

“…yet in surveying the scene, many Christians perceive a SEXUAL crisis, not a MARITAL one. We buy, read and pass along books about battling our sexual urges, when in fact we are battling them far longer than we were meant to.”

Can I get an amen from all the single 20-something Christians out there? I have to say, it was a bit vindicating to have someone else see the problem here. We aren’t sinful for touching each other…we’ve just lost of the focus of commitment.

To be clear here, the advice is not that we all go out and touch each other because we are in our mid 20s and single. Let’s not throw the baby out with the bath water. Instead, the focus of the argument and solution to the sexual “crisis” is on the idea of having the Church support and build healthy marriages between young people. He does argue that we should try to wait for sex. But we should not be putting off marriage.

“Table For One”

Quoting some statistics about marriage, Regnerus points out that we have 65% more single households than we did in the past 35 years. Also, it surprised me to read that less than half of all households in America are married couples. It doesn’t shock me or any of my single women friends to read that we have 120% more single male homes than we did 35 years ago. Women, the reality is that it IS harder to get married these days.

Why is it that we are waiting? Why is it that most of my friends that got married this past “wedding season” were closer to 30 than to 20? Because we’ve changed the way we think about marriage.  We think that we need to have it all figured out before we get married; that it’s not ok to be in process and want to be married. That we have to be fully formed, worked through our demons,  and know who we are.

I know that I have struggled with this one a lot. I have even written about it. It seems that we need to have a good job, know who we are, have our identity and issues worked out, make good money, and worked through and professional crisis before we are ready to be promoted to the “major leagues of dating”…the kind that might have a ring involved. Before that, we were just dating for company while we had fun, traveled, and went to school.

What I really found hysterical was that Regnerus points out that the Church as lost its ability to SHAME men that cannot commit. HA! Can you imagine that!?

3 to 2 Ratio

Regnerus also has another home hitting point that helped nail a suspicion from nearly all of my Christian girlfriends. We often sit around dinner tables asking each other, “What happened to all of the Good Christian MEN?” Well, statistically speaking, we’re working on a 3 to 2 ratio – 2 men to every 3 Christian women. Meaning, that 1/3 of all Christian women out there WON’T have a good Christian man waiting to find them. So, as we sit around and tell our girlfriends who have fallen for the really great non-Christian guy that she is going to “unequally yoked,” we should also know that this advice is hard to follow when it is statistically impossible. I suppose that throws a wrench in the argument that, “God has the perfect man for you honey. You just need to wait until he brings him to you.”

Now Regnerus doesn’t conclude on what this 1/3 of women should do. And to be honest, I don’t have any good thoughts either. I wouldn’t want to commit to a person who had no faith, no knowledge of God, and couldn’t understand the spiritual parts of my heart. But it was amazing to see the numbers there in black and white - women we are dateless because the men are literally NOT THERE.

Ideology vs. Reality

I love that Regnerus makes this clarification: We think that we need to be fully formed to be ready for marriage, but we forget that marriage is a formative institution. It makes you mature. It makes you practice good communication. It creates responsibility.

Now, Regnerus does go through a series of arguments of why people wait to get married. And they are all of the reasons we have told ourselves and our friends: economic, maturity, independence, making the right choice, chemistry, etc. And he does outline good points for each one. But the overwhelming point that I took from his arguments is that as a Christian community we view marriages entirely too independently. When a young couple chooses to get married, we think, “Well, they’ve made their bed, now they have to lie in it.” And that can mean financial struggles, communication or intimacy struggles.

But here’s is a different way to think about it: what if as a Church, we came along side of marriages and supported those people? What if just because you were a young married couple didn’t mean that you were doing it all on your own? What if parents were still willing to financially support those couples in times of economic struggle? What if mentors and older Christian couples were to come along side seriously dating couples and help them to make a founded decision based upon common values and wise group decisions? What if we were in support of young married couples as they mature into their roles of husband and wife? What if we took on the responsibilities together, as one body? Doesn’t that seem much less risky than simply telling a 21 year old college kid that he should marry his girlfriend so they can finally have sex?

After all, God’s kingdom is all about loving on one another, supporting each other, and creating dependence. God’s kingdom is about growing each other, and being in this together. If marriage is suppose to mirror God’s love for us, then we really have it wrong to think that we need to get your life together, wait until you have the maturity, finances, and perfection to be able to enter into commitment. “Come just as you are?“ That may apply to Jesus, but getting a husband seems a bit more tricky.

Good On Paper – But Really?

Ok here’s the catch, even as I am sitting here telling you all  about how getting married is a great thing…I am still questioning if I really believe it for myself. I am 25. I am glad I’m single. I have lived overseas. I have gone to counseling. I have faced my past. I’m hashing out my professional passions and my future. I almost got married at 23. I can tell you that I’m REALLY happy I didn’t. So, on the one hand, while I champion all of Regnerus’ ideas, part of me says “Yep they’re great…for someone else. I’m glad I’m waiting.” So, I get it, I am in your boat. I’m not telling all of the Christian women out there to drop of of school and hang up their ambitions to be barefoot and make bread for their husbands. In fact, the thought of that just made me throw up in my mouth a little bit.

But what I do think is interesting is this: what if marriage is less being perfectly ready and finding the perfect man? What if it is more pragmatic than that? What if it is simply finding our core values, and then using a team of people who love us and know us to help us make a good choice for a spouse.  And then simply saying yes to that commitment every single day. Part of me believes that this has to be more realistic.

And, I do love how the sexuality struggle has been validated through this article. It IS ridiculous to expect us to be 30 and single and not want to intimately connect with our partners. I do still think we should strive for puritan ideals, but in a way it seems that Regnerus has given us a more holistic view of what is going on.

So, with all of that said, know that I stand in the center ground on this issue too. I am still concerned with my friend who just got engaged at 21. I worry they won’t be happy.  I do like the idea of starting to have kids around 30. But I also have seen my share of problems with approaching sexuality and marriage the way we have been.

I’m interested in seeing how this resonates with my readers. In talking about this article this week, it seems that it has hit different people in very different ways. Some were angry, some felt the thoughts were too old fashioned, or some women were screaming “hallelujah!”at the idea of us needing more men to commit.

But as you think on your own opinion, I will close with a quote from Regnerus that I believe sums his whole argument very well:

“While, yes, sex matters…marriage matters more.”

Ironically, just yesterday my mom swung by my house. She and my dad have been cleaning out their house and attic, sorting through old things, and throwing away old junk. Buried deep in the attic, my mom came across a few boxes from my high school era. Being my wonderful mom, she figured that past memories could inspire some good creativity, so she promptly left the boxes on my front porch. Nothing beats coming home to find a box inscribed with your 16-year-old boyfriend’s name, and the contents of high school youth spilling down the porch stairs.

So, as I grapple with what Jesus and God want me to tell these kids, I have been doing my homework by walking through memory lane of my own high school experiences.

Puppy Love.

The first box that my mom left on my porch was a complete time capsule from my first Puppy Love. I had dated a very sweet boy my sophomore year of high school. We met in Language Arts class. He asked me to the Homecoming dance in a poem that he’d put on my desk (which I found in the box). We went to the dance. We had an amazing time. We started dating. We fell in love. It was glorious. He was sweet, and wrote me notes and poems. He would write me pages and pages about how he adored me, and wanted us to be together forever. We dated for almost 9 months, which is just about an eternity at 16 years old. At the end of the school year, I went on a trip to Hawaii with my school’s science program. It felt like the longest trip in the entire world. The distance started to get between us. When I got home, he’d made more friends and begun branching out. We started to grow apart. Painfully, it was time. We decided to go our separate ways. I was crushed. I had my first experience of realizing why they say you’re falling in love. Because when you’re done falling, you smack the ground – HARD.

I was inconsolable. The first day my dad went around my room and collected all of the remnants that were associated with my heart-throb. He placed them one by one in a box: pictures, letters, photos, frames, stuffed animals, anything that would make me think of this boy.  He then put the box in the attic. There it rested for almost TEN years. Until yesterday, when my mom delivered it oh-so-timely to my front door.

I have to admit, as I have long since healed and moved on, it was really cute to dig through the box of treasures. There were letters explaining things I had completely forgotten about, pictures of us as little pip-squeek babies, and pressed flowers. I couldn’t stop smiling. And not because I’m in any way connected or thinking about him. Come on, it’s been ten years. And also I’m pretty sure he’s engaged – or at least that’s what I’ve gathered through Facebook stalking (I mean, if we’re friends on FB it doesn’t really count as stalking…right!?).

I realized that this relationship was a perfect dipiction of Puppy Love because it was entirely evident of how innocent we were; untainted and unjaded. It was simple. He was nuts about me and told me all the time. He just wanted to stay with me for a 16-year-old version of forever. I was nuts about him too. And that was all there was. We had cute kisses, innocent hearts, and were totally unaware of the heartache that would follow in the wake of young love.

If I’m aloud to give a shameless plug to HNB, my current boyfriend-extrodinaire, digging through that box made me think about him quite a bit. Even though I’m 25 and he’s almost 29, somehow we have that same innocent feel. HNB is really simple. He just likes me. I just like him back. It’s easy and fun. And I’m not going to get too mushy on the internet, but it felt good to know even after all of the DBs that are out there, and crap that I’ve sifted through, innocent love is still real and a possibility – like the kind I had at 16.

I think if I was to go back to Jenni the 16 year old, I would tell her to keep dating guys like Puppy Love. Because in between Puppy Love and HNB, there were a couple of rough relationships. Although things turned out ok, I could have saved myself a lot of heartache if I would have taken good notes from Puppy Love, and tried to stick with sweet innocent love like the kind I had at 16.

Perfection and Anorexia.

The other box that my mom left at my house was a filing box that I started keeping when I was a little girl. I think I’ve always been somewhat neurotic, because I started filing at the age of 9 or so. My dad bought me the box, and each year I could collect pieces of artwork, Language Arts writing pieces, or pictures of friends that were important that year. I kept filing all the way through college. So, needless to say that when I found this box on my porch, it was more than a trip down memory lane, it was a complete history of Jenni from a little baby scooting on the carpet, all the way through sorority pictures in college.

The one thing that stood out to me about who I was back them was simply a feeling of being exhausted all the time. That and that I was totally skinny.

See, I was musical and athletic. I was on the band and the swim team. I was taking tons of classes. I got all As. I wanted to be popular, but wasn’t really. But I tried really hard to have lots of friends, and keep the peace with all of my friends (which can be hard when you’re actually a loud mouth dramatic 16 year old). And through all of that, I didn’t really believe that eating was mandatory. So, at the tender age of 17, I barely tipped the scales at 95 lbs. Which, as shown in my filed photos, I looked like I was 13. (NOTE HERE- High school girls: being a 13-year-old-looking pile of bones = SO not cute. Don’t buy the hype. Eat dinner).

Scrolling through the pictures, and through the work I did, I couldn’t help but feel the exhaustion coming back to me. It was like I spent my entire years through high school striving. I’m not sure if that was just the pressures of school, or of my friends, or of my home life, but I know I’m much more relaxed now. Not everything is so black and white. I enjoy life a lot more. I eat dinner a lot more.

I wish I could have gone back and told the high school me that it was ok to be less than everything. To relax. To have fun. I would tell 16-year-old-Jenni to quit trying so hard, because she’d wake up at 25 and still be a hot mess. I’d tell her to get over the hype of being perfect and skinny and just start getting used to choas and not looking like a model.  I’d tell her to quit trying to be so good. Not to say that being good doesn’t get you anywhere – it’s just that I know now that it’s  not a guarantee. Crappy things will still happen, and you still have to live in and grow.

My advice to 16 year old Jenni? Grow hard. Laugh a lot more than you do. Forget about trying to be everything. And I know this sounds cliche, but go after what you love. Who cares if you don’t know what that is right now. But just take a deep breath and let go. The pressure of being perfect isn’t as important as you think.

Message to the kids?

I don’t know if the 16 year old Jenni would have had the mind to understand all of that. I don’t know if just telling a kid, “Don’t worry, relax, life will work out” really means anything to them. Moreover, I don’t know if my memory lane road trip is going to mean anything to these high school kids next weekend. I don’t know if my youth of Brittney Spears and boy band hits even connects to high schoolers who grew up on iPhones and Facebook. I don’t know if they are going to look at me and think that I am outdated and lame. That my stories are unbiblical. That I can’t quote enough scripture or have enough reliability to the bible to be a real speaker.

Although it was good to see how I have grown away from 16 year old Jenni, it would be nice if I had at least a topic or direction for this camp next week. If you have any brilliant ideas, feel free to help a sister out.

You see, this guy that I had been with, I thought he was brave. I thought he was adventurous. I thought he was the greatest adventurer that I had ever known. And in response, I became brave and brazen, and an adventurer. I knew to keep up with this guy, I needed to be a woman who could handle the end of the earth and more.

But then, something happened. It turns out we weren’t in the story I thought we were. No rings would be exchanged, and we wouldn’t have the ending I wanted at that time. The story as I knew it needed me to be brave in a different way than I had imagined. 

But something I learned didn’t go away after the idea of the wedding had passed. The bravery didn’t leave. The brazen woman that I had learned to become didn’t go away. I couldn’t turn off the idea that I was going to be adventurous.

This leads me to a movie. Right, I know. Most people don’t think of their life stories in turns of Disney Movies. Or, if they do, you tend to think that they are pathetic people. But I remember, back in the time when I was thinking that I was going to get married, there was a particular movie that really displayed the kind of woman that I had decided to become.

I had just gone to the midnight showing of The Pirates of the Caribbean, At World’s End.  There was a scene in the movie that literally made me tear with ambition. I remember driving home from the theatre and making an international call. I had been so inspired from the image of bravery and womanhood that I had witnessed, that I felt like an international call was in order, even though it was expensive. I had caught him late at night, but he was willing to listen to my thoughts.

The scene I am talking about is below:

The thing that got me about this clip back then was the idea that the girl wasn’t waiting to be saved. If you notice, she was just as up and prompt with her sword as he was. He would lean on her and hold her for support as he reached to fight his own battles, needing her as much as anything. And like wise, she wasn’t wearing a dress – she wasn’t waiting in distress, she wasn’t literally needing to be saved. Instead she had her own weapon. She knew how to fight. She was just as much apart of the romance and drama as he was.

The funny thing  about that particular relationship is that it didn’t work out. I learned how to be brave, and yet, I’m not married. Which, if you ask me is just fine. But I did learn something that lasted me much longer than the relationship. I learned how to be an Elizabeth Swan. To be brazen. To have my own sword. To take off the dress and engage in the fight of life. To hold my man with as much support and strength as I could muster, knowing that the fight and the adventure were my part as much as they are his.

So, in light of the pirate ways, I toast to Elizabeth Swan. Cheers to the woman who inspired me to be a real woman long before I needed to be one. A woman who showed me feminine strength even before I knew what I was going to be strong for. Women, we are needed with spines of steel -  but yet spines of steel clothed in flesh and softness.

Let us not forget that. In the stories of adventure, we have a key role to play out. Yet, we have to brave and graceful. Not simply brave alone – but brave and beautiful…even while holding a sword and wearing pirate pants.

Let me start this review by saying that I recommended this book to just about every Christian woman I have met this week. Yep, it’s fair to say that this is one of one of those books. You know, the book that you’ve barely finished Chapter 3 and you are already raving to your friends about, and by the time you finish it (which is most likely only 2 days after you bought it), you’ve managed to work it into every conversation – claiming that the book will change their life – regardless of their current circumstances.

Well, without sounding over zealous, I will venture to say with confidence that this book will change your life. I’ve already mentally gone down to the Christian book store and bought all of their copies for nearly every Christian woman friend that I see on a regular basis.

You see, Isaacs is a comedian.  She is sassy, and punchy, and brazen. And after waking up one day and realizing that she was single and 40, and had been through the crap-hole of life…she was PISSED. She had followed God, loved Him and His rules, and yet she was still jipped out her dreams or desires. She was 40, unmarried, career-less, a recovering alcoholic, and questioning if she even wanted to press on. She was angry because she didn’t understand why a loving God could make her life so dreadful, and if he was really “good” why did it constantly feel like she could never catch a break? Sound familiar? Oh right…maybe that’s just my life.

Isaacs did what any naturally sassy and brazen comedian would do. She reasoned that if she was “the Bride of Christ,” then God was being a dead beat husband – and she took God to marriage counseling. (I know what you are thinking: “Why hadn’t I thought of that yet!?”)

I found Isaacs’ memoir through the dark places of her life honest and …well hysterical. As she described some of the darker and more heart wrenching years of her life, her story resonated with me on many levels. She was passionate about God, yet couldn’t stand some of the “Churchy-ness” of Church. She seemed to grip the idea that there are real, raw, genuine and cool people in the world, and hated that the cross necklace and prarie dress wearers seemed to miss them.

Isaccs struggled with the same issues that I talk about on my blog all the time: trying to find her purpose in life, Christian men, Non Christian men, dating, not dating, career choices, alcoholism, sexuality, Church culture, loving Jesus and faith. And throughout her struggle, she was always refreshingly honest with God.  Sometime she would yell, she would get sarcastic, and candid about the reality that she felt jipped. Heck, she even threatened to divorce Him! (And man, you thought I had gall!)

In the end, despite punchy humor and sassy remarks, Isaacs manages to squarely nail some of the desperate realities of letting God barbeque her life. She not only answers the question of “why do bad things happen to good people,” but manages to encourage the reader to press into their own darkness in their lives. She shows the face of God for who He really is, darkness and all. Isaacs does not shy away from these harder issues of faith – but instead, through her unflinching work, she proves that God was really much much bigger and greater than she ever gave Him credit for. And not in some sappy Christian Book store sort of way. Promise, she doesn’t quote verses at you – yet by the end you really get a sense of passion for God that you would never find through the “3 Points and a Poem” books that fill the shelves at Sonshine Christian Stores.

In conclusion, walk away from your computer screen, get into your car, and drive to the nearest store where you can find this book. Or better yet, click the link below and order it. And then go sit patiently by your front door and wait for the delivery guy to come.

Over the past 6 months or so, I have been having some very interesting conversations with friends and acquaintances – both Christians and Non-Christians alike. I am not trying to be some cliche writer that goes straight to the topic of sex because it’s controversial, but legitimately it seems to be a  grey area that begs questioning. I’m not referring to the logistics about sex (we can turn to Cosmo for those details), but more about the topic of sexuality. About what it looks like to be a woman or man and be sexual. What it looks like to be single and sexual. What it looks like to love God and be single and sexual.

The Christian Words of Wisdom: JUST DON’T.

I think I can speak for a lot of us who grew up in the Christian church when I say, sexuality can be an overwhelming subject. It can be hard to talk about, or hard to ask about. For most of my Christian life, I thought that “Good Christian Girls” loved Jesus, and didn’t really do much else than kiss their boyfriends. And then, in my teens I really struggled with guilt because I realized that there is a lot of grey area between kissing and sex, and no one prepared me to hash that part out.  The church’s only message to be about sexuality was “DON’T.” It said nothing about who I was as a sexual being, and how to think or feel about it. I assumed that I was wrong for wanting to do more than kissing, and moreover that I was probably the only Christian girl in the world that felt this way.

And now, in my mid-twenties I find it interesting that most of the people with really good attitudes toward sexual identity that I have met – did not grow up in the church. They are people who were never told “JUST DON”T,” but instead “It’s all good – you are sexual, embrace it.” And somehow, in their twenties these people seem to have a good mentality toward their sexual desires – regardless how much sex they are choosing to have or not have.

I remember the first time I had a  friend admit out loud,  ”I’m a super horny person. Most guys can’t keep up with me.” She loves God. And she wasn’t ashamed. She just said it like it was no big deal. She had come to Christ later in her twenties, and so she wasn’t indoctrinated in the “Shame Belief.” As I was hearing this, I felt like I had been hit by a train. The thought was so surreal. “Is it ok to like sex like that?“

In light of that last comment, let me insert the disclaimer: I wasn’t raised under a rock. I never wore a bonnet, I wasn’t home schooled, and yes my mother did have the “Sex Talk” with me. Regardless of my seemingly “normal” upbringing in regards to sex, things begun to get difficult when looking at the bases between kissing and sex. It just seemed to me that there was never any middle ground -  you were either a person who didn’t believe in God or “God’s rules”, you approached sexuality as you wanted, and never felt any guilt about it – ORyou loved God, bought the rules, and didn’t do more than kiss. And now as an adult, I am realizing that there are HUNDREDS of us that are caught in the middle. We are sexual, single, love God – and somehow are trying to make sense of what is and isn’t ok on Saturday nights at 2 am with boyfriends and girlfriends.

Most of my friends consider me an open person – I will tell you whatever you want to know about dating, sex, make outs, jeans that make your ass look great. Sometimes they will pull me aside and ask questions that they might be afraid to ask. From my girlfriend’s who are Chrisitans, I get this question a lot:

 “From a Christian Woman’s perspective, how much is too much?”

To be honest, I’m still not sure how to answer that with a good conscience. I’ve sat in  sessions with my counselor, hashing out that very issue. Even after professional help, I have decided how to reconcile things in my own mind, but I’m still not sure that I am completely right.

Epic Love.

Let me tell you about a conversation that I had with a friend over Chipotle a few weeks back. She is an amazing person. She grew up in a very conservative church. She then fled her very conservative church and decide to pursue a different lifestyle. Handfuls of experiences later, she is struggling with the same questions as the rest of us.

During this conversation, I was telling her that I know someone who is bi-sexual. It’s not so much that person is into her same gender, it’s just that she is looking for that “All Consuming Love” and doesn’t want to limit herself to gender. Admittedly, she prays to God that she will fall in love with a man and can have the children and the white picket fence, but if she happens to fall madly, insanely, completely in love with a woman – she wouldn’t want to walk away because of gender. Upon hearing this story, my Chipotle friend slams her fist on the table and says “EXACTLY.” She too is looking for what we call epic love. The kind of stuff that shakes you to your core. The stuff they write books about. The stuff that is, in her words, almost psychotic.  And she too, hopes she finds epic love with a man – she admits that she likes the male genitalia a lot and would be sad to have to give it up. But, if epic love comes with a vagina, my Chipotle friend is going to be fine with that.

In my mind, there are two pictures I see being painted. One is that sexuality is, what I would call, “Not Enough.” This is the quiet identity, the message sent to us mainly by the church or other conservatives: that it is something that happens in bedrooms. It is something that we don’t talk about a whole lot. That sexuality is something that happens to you when you are older, or when you are married or when you are ready. But before that, you should just make out with your boyfriends. And if you have dirty little thoughts, then you are probably a guilty sinner. This is the mentality that I had growing up.

The other picture is where sexuality is “Everything.” This is where I see a lot of the world falling into. Sexuality is erotica. It is pornography. It is women in bikinis on the cover of magazines. It is a passionate, unencumbered erotic connection between two people. It is in marketing campaigns. It is ….well really, all over the place. I don’t love this idea either though. I feel like it misses part of it – the human part. The soft part that happens between the sheets of two people who really love each other. I’m not quite sure how else to explain it, but I know that Hollywood has a plastic and overblown image of what sexuality should be.

So how is it, that us Christians go about landing in the middle? For me, I do know a few things. For one, I want to wait. I don’t want to have slept with my husband before I get married. I get it why it is worth waiting for. And fighting for. Because, yes, I do think it should be a struggle. There should be tension. I believe the tension shows you part of the other person – shows you who they are. Shows you how you look out for one another, how you put the other’s interests first. It shows you how you can work as a team, long before your marriage vows are exchanged. And in the words of a good friend, there is a process of discovery takes place. And maybe it’s the traditionalist hopeless romantic in me – but I love the idea of starting out your marriage with some of that discovery. Still having parts of your identity, sexuality, and intimacy that are left for the finding.

The Classic Question – How Far is Too Far?

This still leaves a lot of grey matter out in the open. There are 3 whole bases between kissing and bedding that are left to be fought over. I oscillate on my opinion over those. I have Christian friends who do everything but intercourse. I have Christian friends that do nothing below the belt. I have Christian friends who only kiss.  Are we right? Are we justifying things? What does Jesus think? Hell if I know.

But I do know this: a good friend of mine once told me – the level of sexual intimacy that you are sharing should be equivalent to the emotional intimacy that exists in your real relationship. This is probably the best explanation I had ever heard when it comes to an approach at health sexuality.

So you might be a couple that is ok with oral sex…eventually. Your second date might not be the time. Maybe oral sex  is something that you grow into. Maybe that is an area that you celebrate when you arrive there. And, as a couple, you determine what that looks like through the course of time.

I know in my own relationships, the words of my friend is an objective that I always try to keep in mind. Sex should be the outpouring of what is already going on. Which means that you should be having memories with friends, romantic dates, emotionally intimate moments, laughter, adventures – and the sexually charged moments are the celebrations of all of those things. And together you fight to navigate what to do with those sexually charged moments.

I suppose the moment that sexuality switches to simply being about horniness or orgasms, it makes me think. I mean, I know it’s not always going to be some specifically meaningful experience, but I think it’s a good plumb line.

Has the Church Failed Us?

One of the most interesting things that I have uncovered with my conversations with lots of Christians and non-Christians alike is the nature of their first sexual experiences. In general, the non-Christians that I have come across where so much smarter in their choices when it came to protection. IE- they wore condoms. They had foresight, and ensured that they weren’t doing something stupid.

On the other hand, you find this funny logic within the Church sometimes. Buying condoms (or other contraceptives) means that you are thinking about having sex, or planning to do it. Which, according to the Bible , is wrong. So, instead of protecting ourselves and one another, we get in these hot and heavy moments, and find ourselves unprepared. And then, having unprotected sex and putting ourselves and others at a huge risk. In some weird way, it seems like if we didn’t mean for it to happen, and it was just an accident – it makes it a less guilty action. Twisted I know, but you’d be surprised how many Christians have told me that they followed this line of thinking in their preliminary sexual experiences.

So, if “Don’t do it” is all that we are hearing…and then we are doing it anyway, but putting each other at risk – do you see where this is all wrong? I wonder why I have this overwhelming feeling like the Church has failed us. Left us with nothing about sexuality, other than unpreparedness and guilt.

But even in light of this feeling of failure, I have to ask myself some really hard questions: If I am mentoring high school girls, would I tell them to go ahead and have sex? To buy condoms “Just to be sure?” OR, if I had a daughter, would I tell her to buy condoms and show her how to use them? Would I tell her that it is important for her to wait to be “ready” to become sexually active?

My first inclination would be no. To just tell her to wait. Tell her to have fun, go slow, and not to let her boyfriend down her jeans. Funny though, isn’t that how we got into this predicament in the first place?

I’m not sure how to answer all of the questions right. And I don’t even know if there are right answers to be found. I don’t know if we all just should aim high, try hard, and keep the reality of our decision in the grey area a secret. I don’t know if we should talk about sex more, or less, or just give up on trying to figure it out all together. Or maybe we can take the approach of conservative christian colleges – get married within 3 months of knowing one another, so premarital sex isn’t really an issue.

I do know this though, if there are any of you out there who seem to have it a bit more figured out, your insight might be helpful to the rest of us.

Now I bring this up not merely for the story element, but also because his return is about to signal a change in the relationship thus far. I have been so busy being excited to plant a big ole kiss on him in the airport that I forgot that after that picturesque moment, reality kicks in – we are in the beginning of a relationship.  And while that signals butterflies and floating around on pink clouds, there is another part of new relationships that isn’t quite so pleasant.

New relationships mean that you say to a person, “Yes I think I will decide to let you into who I really am.” I suppose it’s a decision to be discovered.  And from experience, sometimes this means that you feel like you are standing on the front lawn in your underwear holding a sign that says “Please still like me.”  No clothes to slim you or hide things. Just you and your chonies. And your hopes that they don’t walk away.

One of my hobbies is rock climbing. With a background as a gymnist and a swimmer, it is a sport that comes very natural to me. Plus as an outdoor enthusiast, nothing beats a weekend out in nature scrambling around on rocks. When you get to some of the higher climbs outdoors, there is a term that captures this new relationship feeling completely. Exposed. Usually this can happen when it’s really windy, or the route can change so that suddenly you become very aware of how high up you are, and how little you have to hold onto. It is a very indescribable feeling. Your holds can be good, you can have secure feet, but still you become cognizant of how vulnerable you really are.

This is the feeling of new relationships for me. The side of a rock. Front lawn. Clinging by your finger nails. In your undies. Feeling the wind and the height all around you.  And clinging to the sign that reads, “Please still like me.”

Scarlet Letters.

In light of HNB being actually local, I am realizing that as comfortable as I am in my skin and believe that I’m a pretty rad chick to date,  there are stories and events in my life that I with which I am well acquainted. [I am avoiding calling them 'skeletons' in my closet because I don't like that term.] I am really okay with the course my life has taken. However, just because you are okay with your life doesn’t mean that someone else isn’t  going to look it over and say, “Whoa. I didn’t know that was in there. I don’t know about all this.”

I suppose this brings me to my question – at what point do you bring up some of the harder stories of your past? I know there is a delicate balance between what our significant others should be made aware of  and what is information will fuel a fire for no reason. For example, I have a girl friend dating a guy who has been married before.  She should know, first of all that he was married, and secondly, someof the background of their marriage/divorce. However, she needs no gritty details. At some point, stuff like that just burns in your mind.

I have a friend that was engaged last year. Her marriage didn’t happen, and now she is dating again. And I know she asks the same question – at what point does she need to tell guys that she is dating that she was engaged before? She asks, “Why does it feel like such a scarlet letter?” Why does the fact that you nearly married someone else seem like the kiss of death to a new relationship? We all know the obvious answer to part of that – no one wants to think of their mate walking down the aisle with someone else. And because it didn’t work out we all want to immediately know WHY. “Quick, please tell me that you are still normal.” Right? Is this not the game we play?

When thinking about this girl friend, I would never call her “damaged goods” in the wake of the broken engagement. In fact, to me, the fact that she tried so hard to make it work before calling it quits speaks to her level of loyalty and commitment in the face of a struggle. She knew that not everything was perfect, but was willing to stick through to ensure that she had given it her best. I would call that integrity….which is a good thing. Still  – she is destined to sit at coffee tables with new cute guys and try to explain her way through that portion of her life.

Furniture Projects

Obviously we know that these conversation topics aren’t things that you start your first date with. “Hey, thanks for dinner. I had a great time. P.S. I’ve been married before.”  People have to earn the right to know that inner parts of your soul, and the parts of your story that may have left you with chinks in your armor or little scars.  That part takes time.

In some ways, these are like the things that antique us. I have been working on a furniture project for the past few weeks. It is a bed frame from my dad’s childhood. I love it that is is weathered and scratched and has stories to go with the scratches. In fact, on the headboard, there are little teethmarks. When my dad was 2 years old and apparently couldn’t sleep during nap time, he put his little mouth on the headboard and gnawed some divots in the wood. They are still there. My mom told me, “When you’re sanding this thing, leave these scratches. They’re important.” And she is right. I could have gone down to IKEA and bought a bed frame that was perfect, but I didn’t want to. And even with my dad’s bed frame, I could have taken the power sander and blasted out all of the imperfections. But I didn’t want to do that either. It’s a better piece of furniture with nicks and dings. So as people, we’re kinda the same way – we are all walking, talking, dating bed frames.

Ingrid Michaelson Wisdom.

As I sit here typing, I am listening to “The Way I Am” by Ingrid Michaelson. I am realizing that this song resonates with us for a reason. There is something powerful about letting someone in. It grows us. It makes the bond between two people that much more meaningful.  It shifts the basis of acceptance from what we do (are we perfect, we are beautiful, are we funny…) to simply who we are. Give it a listen.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jJOzdLwvTHA]

So, I am anticipating making the drive to the airport, these thoughts roll over and over in my mind. A little unsure. A little scared. Determined to be brave. Decided to climb through the route even if it feels exposed. Picking up my sign and headed out to the lawn. Wishing that there was a formula to follow, but knowing that in this life it is never really that simple. Instead, I know I should take things slowly, genuinely, and organically honest.   And then - I will do what the rules say you do - stand in the front lawn in your chonies,  and desperately hold the sign that says, “PLEASE STILL LIKE ME!”

[Insert shocking gasps and horror screams here].

I had a great conversation with a few of my girlfriends over breakfast Saturday morning (Is anyone beginning to notice that most of my amazing conversations seem to take place over breakfast?) I have to admit, a significant portion of my thoughts come from these gals – they never cease to increase the flow of blog materials.

In the midst of a conversation about Easter eggs and white-picket fences, we got to talking about family: getting married, when we wanted to get married, if we were ready, if we wanted to be moms, if we were ready to be settled little families, or if we still wanted to be single and romping around. 

 It was interesting to note that of the five or so women in the room, most of us really wanted a family – and sooner rather than later. However, it took a little bit of conversation before any of us just came out and said “Yes! I can’t wait to get married and have my own family.”  It was almost like admitting that you like Brittany Spears – a guilty little thought in the back of your mind that you wouldn’t admit unless you knew you were in like-company.

Listening to my girlfriends chat, I couldn’t help but wonder, “Why is it that admitting that you want to be a stay at home mom is like admitting that you want to have scabies?” It seemed that we were almost sheepish about it, like it wasn’t noble enough for the world and needed to apologize for wanting to take an “easier option” than finding a career.

 ”No thank you price charming, I don’t want to be SuperWoman working 50 hours a week, weighing in at 110 pounds and looking like a beauty queen. That’s just too much work. Instead I want to stay home and eat ice cream all day. Is that ok?”

Baby Talk.

For me, when I am honest, I know moms are those amazing, unexplainable creatures are needed more than we admit to, and appreciated less they should be.  They fix everything, they find everything, they kiss things and make things better, they create homes and meals, they foster love and give life. So why is it again that we feel like we have to want a career on top of all of that?  Is it enough for me to say “Being just a mom is fine”? Or do I need to be Mom and have a career? It’s an awkward topic for me to even think about, much less admit. For most of my life I have wanted to be a career woman. My future family plan looked something like this: 

1) Secure great job. Preferably as an executive. Or at least at a high enough level where I get to tell people when I am coming in instead of the other way around.
2) Get married.
3)Travel around the world and play with hot hubby (Yes, being hot was in the plans).
4) Get knocked up.
5) Take 6 weeks to play mommy.
6) Hire nanny to come and rock Jr. to sleep while I go back to running my company.

 I have always felt like that is what women are suppose to want- we want everything. Women are supposed to be amazing and run the office and the home – hell we could probably be president while raising a family.

I know I’m going to be a kick ass wife. And probably a kick ass mom. But still, I’m not sure I’m even allowed to admit that. Or worse, I’m not sure I’m allowed to tell guys that. Hotter, Nerdy, Blonder guy and I are still talking [blushes upon typing it], and I’m not sure if that would send him to the hills if he knew that I’m thinking about being excited for those things. Or any guy for that matter. Guys, if you met a girl at a party and asked her what she did for a living and she said “I’m in marketing, but I really just can’t wait to be a wife and mom!” wouldn’t that freak you out?

In my mind, I’m afraid that we come across like we are faking our careers so that we don’t send out the message that we are ticking. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not desperate, I’m not faking, and I’m not ready to get married or pop out a kid right NOW – but this is honestly the first time I’ve really thought about kids and family at all. Before now I have been actively opposed to the idea and very busy running around the world.

In fact, at one point when I was living in New Zealand, a professor had said to me, “You are at the perfect age to start looking to get married.” I quite literally laughed and said back, “Haha, YEAH RIGHT.”

In light of that memory, it does feel a bit crazy to be open to start thinking about it. [yep, palms getting sweaty just typing about it].

Were Our Moms Just Lucky?

I think the Feminist movement definitely changed some things for us girls. They raised the bar. It allowed us to have much more opportunities and tasks to choose from. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying this is a bad thing – it’s just suddenly made the mommy question a little bit more complicated.  

Were our moms just lucky that they could just be moms and didn’t have to grapple with the “fulfilling career” piece? Or are we lucky that we get to choose to have one, the other, or both if we want? Does it make a difference to good quality men if we want to stay home or not? Does it make you a little bit desperate to realize that yes,  I might want to get married? And yes, I might really love having kids?

Am I ticking?

 I don’t know the answers to half of those questions. But I do know, that I might go looking for bubble wrap tomorrow morning. Or maybe some sort of packing material. I might want to be prepared. If I start ticking, I might try to wrap myself up and silence the sound, because I’m not sure I’m ready for everyone to know it.

All that to say, I do appreciate your feedback. Actually, I would argue that at some level – I need it. It’s important to me that what I write resonates with people – and I thank those of you who have jumped into this conversation.

Jesus and Cocktails.

One of the major comments that I received from both men and women alike when responding to the ideas of meeting guys in bars is simply this: “Can’t great guys go to bars too?” As so aptly commented by Megan, most of us hang out in bars at some point or another, whether it is once in a while or every weekend. It would seem logical then to realize that going into a bar doesn’t transform a person into something evil. And sure, nice girls and boys are still nice when they are sitting on a bar stool.

In fact, I love going out. I wouldn’t say that I have a party lifestyle these days, but I couldn’t imagine being with someone who had a problem going to clubs, or didn’t drink at all. A perk might be that they could be my designated driver all the time – so that might not be half bad; except for the part where you are always the one making an ass out of yourself – I at least like taking turns being the drunken retard.

For the Christian daters out there, I suppose we can meet people in bars because I would hope that there are bars have Christians in them. In theory. However it is in the execution that things get a bit messy. It is a bit awkward to ask, “So do you go to church?” in the first 5 minutes of meeting someone. Granted we all have values that are important to us, but deciding to rule someone out based on this can feel like walking a tightrope. Rule them out too soon and you are paralyzed by your pre-judgement – wait too late and you can face emotional pain by trying to sever a connection due to your intellectual dissonance. 

This can be true of a lot of things beyond where you spend Sunday morning: if you want kids or not, if you drink  or not, if you are a Republican or a Democrat…none of these are things you want to ask someone within 5 minutes of meeting, yet they are imperative to moving forward. Tricky business.

Hotter, Nerdier, and Blonder – the Story Continues.

So, as promised, I did call Hot Nerdy Blond. In fact, I called him last Sunday on the way to an Engagement Party for two of my friends. Now, you might understand why this subject has become so much more complicated, because as irony would have it, I met someone at this party (yes, the traditional Christian way to meet people – at a party with your friends, how ironic).

Now the fun part is, this guy is Hotter, Nerdier, and Blonder than Club Guy. I had met him before, and this time when we were talking, the connection was obvious. I won’t go into too much detail regarding my new heart throb out of consideration and privacy (Surprise, I don’t put EVERYTHING in my life on the Internet). But I will say this, he’s gotten the thumbs up from a few of my buddies, and has a killer laugh that makes me weak in the knees. Ooh-la-la.

I have gotten a call back from Club Guy. But at this point we run into the same questions that we were debating before: “Is it nice to go on a date with a guy when you know that it won’t go anywhere?” It might be true as I professed before, it is just dinner….but the thing is, in light of someone that I know is legit, I don’t know if I want dinner with someone that I met in a bar.

Jenni-the-Writer might feel obligated to give Club Guy one shot, just for the sake of consistency with my writing and commitment to what I say over the Internet. But Jenni-the-Person has a hard time using guys as social experiment. That’s not very nice now is it? 

We Hate Dating.

I think it’s fair to conclude that we don’t love dating. We don’t always hate it, but it can be murky waters out there, and it’s easy to get lost. In fact, talking to one of my girlfriend’s who lives in Seattle, she often calls me and starts our conversations with “Jenni, I hate dating.”

Duh. We all do. As I have often said, dating is a bitch. But we aren’t really given too much of a choice. We all have to decide to play, to give guys the flirty eye, to debate about giving out your phone number, to not call back when he calls you. Maybe we secretly envy our married friends because they have their person already, and don’t have to feel naked as the stand there talking to a new guy, hoping he likes you back.

But here we are, trying to figure it all out. And as I say to my Seattle friend, “Just keep dating! Be content in where you are at, even if it is uncomfortable. And when in doubt, give him your number anyway.”

The Background Story

On Valentine’s Day, as you might have read, I found myself single. So, I did what any sensible, sexy, single gal does: I went dancing with the girls at the  Heat Ultra Lounge in Anahiem. It was legit. Hot guys, great drinks, and a kickin lounge. I probably will make a point to go back.

Now, what happened over the next few hours was playful, fun, and surprising – even to yours truly who is a clubbing veteran. I went with a group of girls who are outgoing, flirty and cute as all get up. At the same time, they are some of the strongest, godliest, amazing, “I know who I am and I’m going somewhere” women as well. Let’s put it this way – I wouldn’t have tagged ANY of them to be the type to give any club-guy their phone numbers. Nor would I have said that I am a person who gives out my number either. In fact, I have a designated fake number like any smart party girl does (which consequently is only a few digits off my real number –  you know, in case Ive had too much to drink and cannot hammer out a whole new fake number).

As we walked out on the dance floor, we began to attract some attention (4 cute girls – come on!), and it was only a matter of time before we were getting asked to dance. Being the coy women that we are, I think at one point early in the evening I even switched guys with one of my friends. She was dancing with an ever so slightly dorky blonde who I had my eye on. I signaled to her, she nodded in agreement – some fancy footwork ensued, I got my man and I was thrilled. As the night grew on and the music grew louder, all of us found ourselves paired off with hot and interesting guys. Exciting I know.

Don’t get too excited. This isn’t him. But it highly resembles him. Oh-la-la for sure.

Hot Nerdy Blonde was a great dancer, and as it turns out, we graduated from the same college. Once things had heated up, we headed outside for a breathe of fresh air to chat and cool off. And then it was back inside for some more flirting on the dance floor. However, as we crested 2:00am, and the house lights began to rise, we knew it was time for the Valentine’s Day romances to disband. It was then that I did something I NEVER do…I reached into my clutch and pulled out my card. With my REAL number on it. I gave it to Hot Nerdy Blonde, and smiled. I turned around to realize that all of my girlfriends (the amazing, intelligent ones who would NEVER give their numbers out at a bar), only to find that they had all given out their real numbers as well. We giggled all the way home.

 Several days after the Valentines venture, I got a text reading:

“Hey J….. – thanks for putting up with my very mediocre dance moves. hahha. Saturday was fun. We should meet up soon. -Hot Nerdy Blonde”

I was flattered. I blushed even. But I didn’t write him back. In my mind, very respectable Christian women DO NOT meet men in bars! We meet nice Christian guys at friend’s parties, bible studies, or e-harmony.com. So in light of these rules, I took the ego boost, and moved on with my week.

I soon found out however, how very wrong I was about the behavior of “Christian Women”.

I found out that my very admirable, responsible, honorable girlfriends went out on a double date with the guys that they met in the club. The boys called, they asked them to dinner, and it was only a matter of days before the four of them were laughing over cocktails. I KNOW. I was shocked. And totally felt jiped.

Cocktails and Wedding Rings.

 Here is the part where we tie this story in with Christian and Non-Christian men. Before talking to my girlfriends, (who admittedly will not date non-christian men) I was a bit confused as to why I didn’t get the memo that it was Kosher for us to go out with our club hotties. Because as I mentioned, we are all God loving women, and the idea of going on a date with a guy you met in a bar seems a little bit counter intuitive to me.

My one girlfriend came right out the gate and said it. I love her thought: “We aren’t going to marry the guys, and that’s just the thing. It’s just dinner. Christian guys don’t seem to get that. It’s like they have to know that they want to marry us before we can get a cocktail. These guys at least know how to get a number and take a girl out on a date.”

In some ways I see her point. I know a lot of guys who seem hesitant to get it out there. It’s like they’re so concerned about “being intentional” that they are paralysed. I think in the heaviness of trying to figure out of this girl is “God’s will for me” we forget to just laugh and have a drink. We forget that it’s just dinner. Girl’s aren’t made of glass, and if we go out for a dinner and it fizzles, so be it. We won’t break. We’ll move on.

At some point I overhead someone laughing about the idea that it seems that we get stuck thinking that we are all “Christian brothers and sisters.” Maybe guys  feels it’s like incest to look over at your “sister in Christ” and think ‘hmm….she’s hot. We should go out.’

I think a few of my Christian girlfriends have met far too many Christian men who flirt, make a point to see them in groups, but then never make a real move. Sometimes I have friends that have been “talking” to guys for an entire month before they every hit the “Dinner and Drinks” phase. And to contrast that to guys who took all of a week to get my friends out, a month does seem a bit absurd.

I do understand that there is a delicate balance in what I advocating. I’m not saying that all non-christian guys are perfect. I know for a fact that there are a fair share of tools out there (believe me, I have probably already dated them). And I’m not saying that Christian guys should be whoring-assholes. I’m just saying that maybe we should pop the pressure a little. Because to me it’s sad that my beautiful friends are willing to date non-Christians because those guys seem to be a little better at the dating game.

Apparently I’m a Hypocrite.

In hashing out this idea with my friend Suzanne, the first words out of her mouth was this:

“You know what this means? You have to call him. If you are writing a blog about men being able to ask a girl out, and you DID give him your number, then you need to call him back.”

Let’s just say that Suz was thoroughly thrilled when she found out that my friends went on dates with their club guys. She’d already been harassing me for weeks for not calling Hot Nerdy Blonde back. My apprent mistake regarding the acceptability of dating men that you met in a bar only added to her arguement.

I still don’t know if nice-God-loving girls like myself should be getting tied up with guys that they meet in bars…but I do see her point. I shouldn’t be that snooty. He’s putting it out there like I asked right?

So…tomorrow I’m going to call him. It’s been a month since he texted me, and it might be way  too late. But, like I said, I’m not made of glass, so if he doesn’t want me anymore  – I can be right on my way.

Keep you posted.

The Bachelor is like Socially Acceptable Polygamy

Give it several weeks and an “After the Rose Ceremony” scandal later- I think we are all beginning to realize the depth of the sick and twisted show we have created. After seeing this season’s finale, we are all thinking along the same lines as Lincee,  The Bachelor’s long time Recapping blogger: “Can we get the ABC psychotherapist over here please?“

Many people have argued, “I’m sure it was all in the contracts for Jason to have to show everything on camera, and it wasn’t really his fault.” In some ways, I am sure they are right. After all, ABC is like any other corporation – they are about MAKING MONEY. They don’t care about feelings,  people, and the right things to do- at the end of the day, it’s the ratings that matter. I’d love to say that there are other corporations that look beyond those things, but in reality,  it’s the “Show me the money” mentality that really makes the world go round.

So, here is my question. At what point did we fail to recognize this image: 

is UNCANNILY similar to the show about Fundamentalist Mormons who actively practice polygamy:

See the resemblance? And while we all turn our noses up at the Fundamentalist LDS hiding away in Utah, saying that they are sick and gross…every week we faithfully tune into The Bachelor to watch women struggle for power by seeking the favor in the eyes of one man. (And by we, I mean me. It’s a car wreck, and I can’t seem to look away).

I know we aren’t supposed to get this riled up about a TV show, but I think there is so much going on here below the surface, it’s unbelievable.

First of all, I’d like to point out, that if the producers of ABC did this intentionally, they are amazing. And disgusting. Maybe the actions of this season was a ploy. Maybe ABC has decided to capitalize on the emotional that all women have in common: the ability to hate men just a little bit. I’m not saying that all men are chauvinistic pigs. What I am saying is that all women have had interactions with men being chauvinistic pigs. Rejected because “I’m sorry, I’m still in love with someone else,” or being told “I’m sorry, I just can’t do this.” (Funny, my last two relationships ended one of those two phrases.)

If someone at ABC realized this, and decided to “Creatively” move the show in a direction in an attempt to strike on those chords in The Bachelor viewing population…that is pure genius. Manipulative  and sickening. But still genious. You may think that I am taking this too far, but honestly, working in corporate America I know first HAND that what really matters is the green. And if we can push rules or break hearts to get it, we will.

Secondly, let us all agree that JASON IS A TOOL. This should come as no surprise to any of us. As so aptly put by my friend Jeff, “Whatever man can look at a room full of women and say ‘my future wife is in this room.’ is a tool.” Agreed.

Breaking up with someone on public television? I think our hearts ALL broke for Melissa a little bit. It was clear that she was genuine when she agreed to the show. She felt real emotions. And contract or no contract, it is obvious that she got the short end of the stick.
Starting a new relationship with Molly? Seriously? We couldn’t even wait a commerical break after ending your engagement to start a new relationship? Excuse me, I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.

But here is the part that makes me FURIOUS: YOU HAVE A THREE YEAR OLD SON. So, going on the show the first time with Deanna wasn’t enough time and disruption into your son’s life, you had to go again for a second round. Do you know what kind of mental damage you can do to a three year old, showing him that love is a game show? And Jason stands up there, talking about Ty like he is the world to him…yet he had no issues with taking 2 seasons worth of shooting time away from “his little boy.” Right. Which makes you a tool.

Third, why is it the girls that always have to be so sure?  Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems that we have got it all backward. Having roomfuls of women waiting to be with a man, fawning over his ever move doesn’t seem to motivate him to pursue. Maybe I’m old fashioned, but when a guy finds me interesting or cute, ask me on a date. Yes you should be nervous. It’s called a risk. And yes I am worth taking that risk. I hate it how in the show,  the girls to have prove that they are sooo sure, having NO doubts that he is the one! Yet, he can turn around and say “Gee Melissa, your parents didn’t want to meet me. Now I’m really having doubts that you are committed. I don’t know if I can propose to you know.”

Aren’t we supposed to have doubts? Isn’t that part of the journey? Aren’t we suppose to have doubts and take risks, trusting when its hard and letting people see your uglies? Then you hope to God that your uglies aren’t bad enough to scare them away. That’s called a R-E-L-A-T-I-O-N-S-H-I-P.  As an old date of mine used to say, “You simply need to meet someone who is willing and able to deal with your demons.” Too bad we didn’t work out…he was one smart guy.

Did it ever dawn on the women that ABC was paying for all of these romantic excursions, and maybe in real life Jason was cheap?I want to know what happens when they get back to Seattle, and Molly is going, “Where’s the limo Jason? I want to ride downtown to pick out a new dress so we can fly to Paris for dinner.” And Jason is going, “Sorry Molly, I don’t have any money. I had to quit my job to do two seasons of  The Bachelor, so…how do you like Top Ramen?”

All in all, we all know that The Bachelor is a train wreck. Usually, I just avoid it all together. If I wanted to barf once a week, I could take up bulimia. This season however, I chose to have it induced every Monday night. And even though the girls signed up for a train wreck, I really do feel for Melissa. I hope she finds love. The real kind. The “you look like shit and smell awful…but come here let me kiss you” kind.

I suppose the only thing that could redeem this season is knowing the Jillian is going to be the Bachelorette next season. She kicks ass.